How many does it take before you find your Prince?

I rushed my waffles for this?

What an emotional roller coaster this week has been! I’m sure you’ve noticed my lengthy absence from posting, and I apologise if any of you were hanging on the edge of your seats for details but so much has happened! I’ll dive straight into it and you can see how I was wrongfully coerced into shoving down delicious waffles at the speed of light.

So, the sex is great, the boy is fab and the penis is perfect. What could go wrong? Turns out the dating gods aren’t finished playing their sadistic games with me just yet. Just when I thought I had found the perfect man who hates triple j, loves chocolate and has abs I could grate cheese on, things all have to go tits up.

After the ute debacle we arranged to meet up on Tuesday night for a much more successful (and hopefully bed ridden) encore. I have Wednesday’s off for ‘study’ and he couldn’t work because of that pesky old neck brace, so in my mind it was going to be an all night sex session. As soon as the clock ticked over to 4.30 I sprinted out of work to make my early train. I burst through the door at home and it was shit, shower and shave all the way. I was feeling good.

So it came as a bit of a disappointment when Rolph called telling me he wouldn’t be over until later that night. I shushed my screaming loins and calmly told him that this was fine, all the while trying to douse the flames between my legs that threatened to set the couch alight. We arranged for him to come over at 9.15pm, which meant I had four hours to kill…

Longest four hours of my life!

And of course there was absolutely nothing on tv so I spent the majority of that time having multiple showers, pacing the hallway, stalking the cat and seeing if I could creep up on him and stalking Rolph’s facebook. Finally though, finally 9.15 came!

And went…

By quarter to ten I was almost out of my mind. I had texted him at 9.30 asking if he’d left yet. Then I’d called ten minutes later. No reply to either of them. What was he doing to me? Eventually my phone rang and I pounced on it instantly, ironically terrifying the cat I had been so desperately trying to suprise all night.

Turned out Rolph was running late but he was on his way (thank god.) I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding and told him to drive safe. “And fast,” screamed my brain, but luckily I was able to keep that thought to myself.

I’d already decided on my plan of attack for the night. Every time we saw each other I would throw myself at him and passionate kisses and sexy time would ensue, but this time I would let him do the throwing. I wanted to know if it was all me or if he was really as attracted to me as I was so obviously to him. When he finally knocked on my door I forcefully restrained myself from ripping off his belt with my teeth and instead greeted him with a very chaste kiss.

On the mouth of course you dirty minded fiends! 😉

I led him to my boudoir (where I had artfully dimmed the lights to just the right brightness. Trust me I had four hours to get it right.) and proceeded to chat to him whilst feeding him fancy chocolate. Oh yes, aphrodisiacs all the way!

But nothing.

I’m talking g-rated, Sunday school My Little Pony bullshit. Just boring old chats. He didn’t even kiss me! I pouted inwardly, frustration getting the better of me. Why hadn’t he lunged at me in an attempt to roger me silly? Why wasn’t I at this moment getting a good seeing too? I hung on to my resolve by the skin of my teeth. I had to know if he had any passion under those muscles. It was all well and good being great in bed, but once in a while a girl wants to be spontaneously fucked against the fridge for no apparent reason. This wasn’t going to work if it was always me coming on to him and he just lay back and enjoyed it. Although I’m sure that sounds like a perfect relationship to a lot of men out there.

Finally I snapped. Why hadn’t he kissed me? I demanded an answer from him. Was I not sexy enough? Did I wear the wrong underwear? Did he need more chocolate? To this he replied with a lack-lustre “Oh I’m just not much of an initiator.”

Pig’s ass!

I didn’t believe him at all, and the hormones rushing through my body probably didn’t help my mood. It was at that moment that Rolph thought it would be appropriate to mention my ‘crazy eyes’ as he called them.

Side note: I have a bit of an expressive face and friends have likened me a little to Jim Carrey. Great for making people laugh? Yes. Good for the throes of passion? Negative.

So Rolph had a good old laugh about how crazy my eye’s were, a point he was not to know but that I had always been sensitive about. This did not go well.

“What do you want me to do?” I vented “They’re part of my face!”

Oh yeah, this night was going exactly as planned.

After I finally got him to shut up about my facial features, he decided to roll over and go to sleep.

Why god, why? Why do you punish me in such unjust ways? I had a gorgeous, if slightly annoying man in my bed and he was now reduced to nothing more than a snoring hot water bottle! I glared up at the ceiling, unleashing my wrath upon the unsuspecting beams.

Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow I get my revenge.

And I did!

After a long talk about how important passion was to me and how occasionally I would like to be bent over the odd piece of furniture, we came to an agreement. Or at least I think we did. I can’t really remember because that was when we started to have sex. Happy days!

Now the thing about having sex with Rolph is that though it feels amazeballs, at the moment it doesn’t last overlong. Now don’t get me wrong, he’s no premature pete, he’s just not long distance larry either. The problem is that he gets me so turned on, amazingly so, and then he comes and we’re done. This wouldn’t be an issue if we went for round two soon after, but every time I’m foiled in my attempt! The first time he was a time bomb on sleeping pills and this time he was starving for some breakfast.

Nothing better for two hungry individuals than waffles right? I agreed to go and get breakfast on one very specific condition. That we have sex again the moment we return home. Rolph giggled and agreed. So we cleaned up and headed down the street for said waffles. I could barely think though. My orgasm was iminant, as soon as these damn waffles were out of the way. Then he would be mine again, naked and resplendent in my bed.

Goody.

So as soon as those waffles hit the table I was into them. Yes it may not have been the most lady like of spectacles but hey most guys like a girl who can eat right? In just a few minutes I downed the waffles, licking a few drops of chocolate sauce off the plate for sexy effect. After what seemed like an age Rolph finished his as well. I grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the cafe, my pulse hammering right near where my waffles would be heading later. We jumped in the car and were back at my place with in minutes. I was practically squirming with excitement, so you can imagine my horror when Rolph spoke these six words,

“I’d better be heading off then.”

What the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” I asked, gobsmacked. My mouth, which at this moment was supposed to be filled with his cock, hung open, aghast at his words.

He shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do today. You know…” he finished weakly.

My brain was about to explode, never even mind what was happening downstairs. I couldn’t compute what he was saying.

“But, but, but…” I babbled, my mouth still confused to be able to form more than that. Finally I said “But you don’t have to stay! I’m not asking for much! Just do me against the door, technically that means you’re not even coming inside!”

He laughed and shook his head.

This was funny to him? How could he do this to me?

“You promised!” I cried, completely distraught.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a grin “I’ll see you on the weekend. It’s only a few days away.”
Days? He wanted me to wait days? It was only with a supreme effort that I managed to keep the tears at bay. Instead I used the word all of us women rely on when shit gets real.

“Fine.”

And with that I slid out of the car, whimpering slightly as the vibration of the seat did tantalizing things to my terribly wanting honeypot.